


Echoes Across the Crumbling Corridors

by Oedipe



Category: Paradise Killer
Genre: Headcanon-heavy, Major character and game spoilers, More characters to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:16:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28521522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oedipe/pseuds/Oedipe
Summary: It is an Architect's role to create the perfect Paradise.  Yet every facet of Perfection bears an afterimage of its End.Understanding how to create always requires an understanding of how it can be destroyed.
Kudos: 9





	1. The First Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> Much of this story is based on my (very plentiful) headcanons; I felt inspired by the lore given to us in the game via relics and character interactions! Out of all the characters-- and believe me, all of them are impressive-- Carmelina has to be my favorite. Her design rocks and it's fun interpreting the history of a genius architect who existed for many millennia. 
> 
> These chapters are my own take on the events of the Island Sequences :) Happy reading!

_Island Sequence Four_

Her birth had been fêted. The revered Silence family would continue their holy legacy through their daughter, Carmelina. The event was only further emboldened by the fortune of her birth falling under the sign of the unmatched engineer herself: Blood Dancer. The psychic threads were woven tightly around Carmelina, it had been said, and it pleased the Council to have another Architect within Paradise.

 _May the goods look favorably upon us,_ Leader Monserrat declared. Her parents couldn’t have been more proud.

An Architect’s dearest creation.

Carmelina remembered the first century of the Island Sequence as one of awe and inspiration while she developed her craft. Unlike her mother and father, who shouldered the responsibility of ensuring a secure home for all of Paradise’s inhabitants, Carmelina was free to dream as large as it pleased her. Castles made of glass gardens, pyramids wrought of silver moonlight, and roads of rivers and waterfalls. The Paradise of her mind had no limits. The gods could live in ocean palaces whose roots would traverse the entire underground of the Island. The stars in the night sky would be as brilliant as fireworks. Her family’s residence would be a shrine of ultimate reverence to their holy master, Silent Goat, who blessed them with their skills and gifted them his very name. 

_It would be perfection._

Carmelina kept her sketchbook faithfully at her side, losing herself for hours when inspiration struck— and it often did. While she couldn’t remember any particular friends she had during this time, Carmelina had every stroke of her pen etched into her heart. Her parents had called her a genius then. 

_A ‘genius’ is perfect, right?_

She believed that perfection was something the Syndicate had always longed for. Why else create Paradise? Why else cultivate prayer to summon the blessing of lost gods?

Natasha and Romeo Silence, though having been superbly blessed by the Silent Goat, were still reeling from the shame and anguish at the loss of their previous Islands. Romeo in particular was sensitive to what he termed his “failings to meet the desires of the gods.” Carmelina knew little of his life before the Great Betrayal, in the so-called real world. Many Syndicate members who lived on the sequences since their inception were not dissimilar in their reluctance to recount the past. Yet, she couldn’t see her father in them, the echoes of fear in his eyes whenever he cast them towards the Pyramids. Was he afraid of the terrors that seemingly trailed their efforts in communing with gods? Demonic corruption and the paranoia that followed were the persistent enemies of every Paradise crafted by Architect Romeo. There was the rare whisper, even, that the gods were unhappy with how the Silence family had been using their blessing. They remained but whispers, but Romeo threw himself further into anxious reverence anyway.

Leader Monserrat was kind, even sympathetic to the Architect. After the horrific disaster on the third Sequence, he understood how bloodshed and utter loss would shake up even the most resilient of worshippers. Moreover, he knew that unity was the priority for all inhabitants if they were to continue with their divine mission. Citizens were pushed to be more fervent in their prayers, while Syndicate members kept a sharp eye out for the first sign of corruption.

At the time, she wanted to believe that everyone was working together for the sake of a perfect Paradise.

When did the façade begin to crack? Where could she have examined more closely the flaws in the supposedly righteous?

Was it in the gardens overlooking the Pyramids? In the smile of the notorious Doctor as he shamelessly propositioned some Syndicate member beneath the fragrant trees? Or maybe in the raucous laughter from an inebriated band of friends who were finishing the night with one last cigarette, their backs towards the superstructures.

One place she was certain was free of noise and debauchery was the small shrine to Blood Dancer tucked amongst red flowers with petals like jewels. Frequented by many early in her youth, it saw few visitors aside from a polite offering here and there.

 _All the better._ Carmelina looked up at the pale statue. The skull of the goddess’ face glinted darkly in the light of the setting sun. In her outstretched hand, the price of her craft. Carmelina similarly reached out, brushing her fingertips against the coolness of the grasped skull.

“The gods have made many sacrifices,” she murmured to herself.

“They have. It is only right to give thanks to them, and pray for their divine return.”

Carmelina pulled her hand back, looking over her shoulder towards the vaguely familiar voice. 

“Witness to the End?” The calm, masked man whose presence unnerved her parents, the Architects. Carmelina rarely found herself face to ‘face’ with him, much less alone with him. Still, his green eyes bore a tranquility that put her at ease. She hadn’t recognized the tension until it melted from her body.

“Carmelina Silence.” Witness nodded politely. His gaze moved to the goddess behind her. “One day we shall welcome her to Paradise once again.”

His voice was so honest and resolute. Those pious eyes of his enchanted her in the oddest way— perhaps he was blessed, as well. Perhaps more so than she was.

“Is it terribly difficult? We’ve only a single god on this island, so far.” 

“It is a process that necessitates much faith and prayer. We all must make them paramount in our daily living. It pleases me to see Architect Romeo devoting himself to our astral lords. They have always looked favorably upon your family.” His eyes held no jealousy or derision, but instead an understanding camaraderie. “May your legacy bask in their radiance.”

Carmelina suppressed a proud smile. “You can be certain of that. One day, I will help create a magnificent Paradise for all of our gods.”

It seemed to bring genuine joy to the man behind the mask. It was a different sort of praise for Carmelina; rather than judging her for what she already crafted, he was confident in the path that awaited the young Architect. She felt a new channel of creativity spark across her mind. When he asked her to join him prayer, she accepted.

————

As her talents became more refined, Carmelina's parents permitted her to observe the preparations for the fifth Island Sequence. It was imperative that their plans only met the eyes of the Council, lest the demons lurking between Paradises sniff them out too soon. Vowing to learn from their previous errors, the Silence family kept eyes and ears all over the island. Not one secret slipped by them, and any wayward Citizens were promptly dealt with by the Marshals. Prayer was heavily enforced in a more concentrated effort to revive any god they could. There were brief periods where life was unblemished by hungry demons. Yet, time and again, tendrils of fear and anger twisted around the prayers harvested from the Citizens. Offerings became tainted and the statues of the gods began to weep.

_Why? Why?_

Carmelina feel asleep trembling every night. She had never before felt such dread. How naive she had been; it was no wonder why the early Syndicate members didn’t speak of the past. Who would want to relive such frights?

It was hard to be strong during these times. Everyone looked desperately to the Architects for solutions. Leader Monserrat worked tirelessly with Romeo and Natasha to make the necessary improvements, yet the demons were just as adaptable. Peace and unity were discarded for suspicion and disdain. The Syndicate blamed the Citizens. Some Citizens openly blamed the Syndicate. These Citizens were not heard from again. 

Prayer and ritual offerings spanned days at a time without rest. Many worshippers grew weary yet frozen with fear. This, too, tainted the efforts to communicate divinely with the gods. It felt as if the island was suffocating. After half-eaten Citizens began to wash up on the beaches, the Silence family was paid a visit by none other than Witness to the End. His arrival to the sitting room was not ceremonious in the slightest, but the moment he stepped in, the atmosphere became pained and brittle. Romeo shot up from his chair, face drained of color, wearing the grimmest expression Carmelina had ever seen on him. 

“Architect Romeo Silence.” The voice behind the mask was anguished. In his eyes, she could see the Universe ending. She remembered how badly she wanted to look away from them. They were the last thing she remembered of that day.

Carmelina’s parents were devastated; another Island Sequence irrevocably corrupted by demons. Their plans for the next island needed to be expedited. Natasha spent long nights pouring over her blueprints, while Romeo meditated on the scaffolding for the new Paradise. Demons continued to chew through the holiness on this island. Leader Monserrat and the rest of the Council were anxious to bring their new home into existence. Witness passed many evenings with the Architects as they severed the threads of this Paradise and wound the fibers of the next one. He advised them on how to preserve the energetic channels supporting Crying Grudge throughout this process, ensuring that the god’s healing continued uninterrupted between islands. Carmelina paid careful attention to the role this man played in the deconstruction of her parents’ well-crafted dream.

By the time the Citizens were rounded up for ritual slaughter, Paradise felt like a frightening shell of its earlier glory. The magnificent island that Carmelina was born to was nearing the end of a long death. 

On the night before the Silence family was scheduled to be taken to Island Sequence 5 by the Ferrywoman, Natasha lit numerous candles within the cold sitting room. Golden light cast long shadows upon the walls. Romeo had settled into his favorite chair for the last time on this sequence. He looked so tired and far away. How spiritually taxing the formation of a new island was. How heartbreaking, the final goodbyes to a now-empty Paradise. 

When Natasha began a prayer to Silent Goat, Carmelina recited the words through heavy tears.

_The First. The Holy Catalyst. Silent Goat._

_May we always walk with you._


	2. The Secret of Silence

_Island Sequence Five_

“I want to give you something, Carmelina.”

It had been five centuries since her birth. Carmelina knew nothing different from this immortal existence, but could still marvel at how the years had passed nevertheless. The hardships from the previous island seemed far behind her, and even her father finally seemed in better spirits within his latest masterpiece. Romeo approached her with his hands clasped behind his back. He smiled more freely now. She was glad to see it.

“What is it, Father?” Carmelina straightened up in her seat and set down her pencil. 

Wordlessly, he held out his open palms towards her; cradled in them was a gilded case. Esoteric carvings adorned the lid, while precious stones studded the sides in shifting patterns. Carmelina curled her fingers around the gift. Immediately, she felt the flood of a unique energy commence from where fingertips kissed metal. What could be inside? She was certain that whatever it was, it was meant for her alone.

From a bed of worn velvet, Carmelina withdrew a small, storm-colored orb. Veins of blue glinted across the back like lightning. An iris of complex amber encircled a colorless pupil. As she gazed upon it, it gazed right back.

The strange eyeball sent ripples of great knowing through her flesh. The threads of information converged instantaneously before returning to an infinite that quickly filled every crevice of her mind. Ripples threatened to give way to tsunamis. Carmelina blinked back into reality and deftly replaced the eye in its case. Her fingers trembled. 

“Thank you, Father,” she heard her voice as if from a distance. Her soul tingled from the eye’s cosmic whispers.

“It belonged to Adelheid Ramses, a devotee of Blood Dancer. We owe several of our successes during the Great Betrayal to this group of the goddess’s disciples. They lent us their strength and protection. Their faith in the gods’ triumph was unmatched.” Romeo closed his eyes; Carmelina was unsure if he was trying to recall or banish a memory. “They did not survive to see the first Paradise. Few did, after all.”

Carmelina held her father’s hand, unsure if she should reply. Fortunately, the shaking had stopped. _Blood Dancer…_

At the contact, the Architect resumed his gaze towards his daughter. He smiled.

“The devoted are always divinely rewarded, Carmelina. We lost so much in the Great Betrayal. But, the gods do not forsake us. When they speak, we must listen.”

“The gods are righteous,” Carmelina agreed. It was easy to agree. This Paradise was perfect. Surely the gods would delight in this magnificent island, as well. _Perhaps Blood Dancer could be one of them._ With his gift, it seemed as if her father was entrusting her to create the appropriate channels to make this possible; after all, the sign of the goddess watched over Carmelina’s birth. If the eye of Adelheid Ramses contained the knowledge she needed, the young architect would gladly decipher every secret engraved upon it.

\--------

Though demonic corruption dared not touch the brilliant fifth Island Sequence, the deities still slumbered beyond the realm of Paradise. Crying Grudge remained the only god on the Island Sequence despite the Syndicate’s collection of a markedly pious crop of Citizens. It bewildered the Council and Architects. This island was immaculate, and yet something was hindering their mission to revive the gods. 

_The devoted are always divinely rewarded._

Decades passed in anticipation of such a reward. On many nights, Carmelina drifted to sleep to the hum of prayers sounding from the Citizen’s quarters. The stormy eyeball watched over her quietly.

Perhaps it had witnessed the first time Paradise’s lush beaches gave way to slithering purple sands beneath the moonlight?

Carmelina did not believe these fleeting shifts to be anything other than sleep-deprived illusions, at first. She had thrown herself completely into learning all she could from the vast exploits of Blood Dancer, in part to remedy the Syndicate’s predicament, but mostly to satisfy her immense curiosity and appetite for knowledge. Reels of someone’s long-forgotten memories conveyed grotesque images of countless genocides. Worlds died and flourished and disappeared under the influence of the goddess. The knowledge of it all was beautiful, frightening. For some reason, it made Carmelina feel small in the grand tapestry of immortality. To the gods, creation and destruction were as simple as breathing. There was no attachment or sentimentality towards what crumbled at their touch. She recalled how despair colored her father’s visage on the final night of Island Four. 

Detachment? _Could that be the secret to perfection?_ Carmelina posed this question to Witness one day following the Syndicate’s morning devotions. 

“The gods have existed for an eternity,” the masked man replied after a thoughtful silence. “I am not sure that we can comprehend the evolution of their ‘perfection.’ Is this perception of their ‘detachment’ merely human eyes viewing this never-ending existence with fear?”

“Fear corrupted our last island and summoned demons instead of gods,” Carmelina retorted. Bitterness touched her features.

Witness gave her a sympathetic look. He understood that it was the first island that she had seen fall to the horrors of the cosmos. “We are human,” he offered her the gentle reminder. “Eternal students within this divine existence.”

Carmelina glanced away for an instant, suppressing a deep sigh. 

“Understanding comes with time, Architect Carmelina. Do not lose faith in your role to serve the gods.” Witness’s eyes glimmered in the morning sunlight. Carmelina’s mind tried to picture the chasms of knowledge she would fall into if she traced _them _as she did Adelheid’s. Alas, it was fruitless to imagine such a scenario, for she far preferred these eyes alive on the man beside her. They were odd and marvelous, viewing the world far differently than she did.__

_Is that_ your _secret, Witness to the End?_

__\--------_ _

__That night, after a particularly intense evening devotion, Carmelina stretched out upon the chaise in her bedroom. She felt too tired to take the eye from its case and peruse its icy veins. Similarly, her notebook sat untouched atop her desk. The gods were far more important than blueprints, Carmelina supposed. She instantly chastised herself for the implication of such thoughts._ _

_We needn’t concern ourselves any longer with creating a more perfect home for us and the gods. Mother and Father have outdone themselves with this Island Sequence._

__All was perfect._ _

__Carmelina repeated this mantra in silence, permitting her eyes a short rest from the splendor of the external world. In frail darkness, she could see the faint outlines of long-dead civilizations littered with skulls that shattered beneath Blood Dancer’s steps. The names of these great empires escaped her; such extinctions were plentiful across the galaxies and Carmelina still felt as if she had only barely scratched the surface. What if Witness was correct? What if it indeed took her an eternity to understand the will of the gods?_ _

_What is it that I must learn?_

She pictured a ceaseless chasm of knowledge engulfing her. Beginnings and Endings filled the void, great losses followed by greater triumphs. _But whose were they?_ Only the gods in their infinite essence knew for certain. Would they be hers, someday?

__The respite was naturally overtaken by the Architect’s incessant thoughts. Carmelina had long since accepted this affliction. Only sleep was untouched by the images her mind conjured, but for some reason, she was reluctant for the night to end. She summoned for tea to be brought to the balcony outside of her chambers. The midnight air was always balmy within Paradise. Carmelina took in several long breaths while she waited for the herbs to steep. Like clockwork, the muted chants of the praying Citizens sounded from the distance. She imagined Crying Grudge within his malachite pyramid, nourished by rivers of piety with each passing day. Green eyes searched the darkened ocean for the god’s holy structure, but instead were met with an eerie expanse of desert. The moon cast sinister shadows upon the violet sands._ _

__“…”_ _

__Carmelina sat up, at once enthralled and horrified. Gliding along the ever-shifting earth were large, pitch-black reptiles. Their arms-- plentiful enough in number that the monsters resembled grotesque, tailed spiders-- created ripples of sand as they traversed the desert now surrounding Crying Grudge’s shelter. As they pulled closer, their movements slowed considerably into a bizarre dance around the pyramid. Throughout this spectacle, the humming of the Citizens continued without a care. Beneath the prayers, a sad groan rumbled the earth._ _

__A tremendous shiver suddenly ripped Carmelina’s attention from the sight. Darkness gave her some relief, though the afterimage of writhing reptiles pulsed behind her eyelids._ _

_Stop… Stop…_

__Something deep within her strived to reject the unholiness in the air. She sunk back in her seat, listening to the urgency of her beating heart while taking long, shaky breaths. Only when her body finally relaxed did Carmelina realize how hard she had been gripping the armrests. She opened her eyes to the pale tile beneath her feet, and noticed that the groaning had ceased. Likewise, the Citizens’ prayers reached their conclusion._ _

_Are they… still there?_

__Carmelina’s brow dotted with sweat; she was reluctant to look up and out towards the pyramid. A cool breeze caressed her skin and carried the scent of island flora with it. No longer did the air drip with cosmic malice. The Architect exhaled deeply, and lifted her head._ _

__Sparkling ocean waters replaced the purple desert, lapping at the crescent moon of the beaches just as her parents had outlined in their blueprints. Looming above the waves was a god’s malachite monolith, unblemished by what had occurred moments earlier._ _

__Was the god inside slumbering? Or was he still in pain?_ _

_Was it all in my mind?_ Carmelina felt her heart began to race again in panic. No, it had felt so _real_ that it couldn’t have been anything but the truth before her eyes. She could feel her throat close in a fear that hadn’t touched her since the demons roamed Island Sequence Four. Yet every time she blinked and forced herself to look out to the sea, her eyes were met with the same unchanging scenery.

__Paradise was Paradise again._ _

__Until the next time._ The thought dissipated swiftly, but Carmelina was already on her feet and hurrying out of her chambers. Her steps echoed down the long, empty hallways. She was afraid. She wanted badly to tell someone-- _Mother, Father_ \-- and be comforted, reminded that nothing would ever ruin this perfect life again._

__

__

_Paradise must forever be Paradise._

__Carmelina stopped before the first room whose light hinted at a presence behind its large door. An exquisitely carved relief of Silent Goat peered at her as she inhaled sharply and turned the handle._ _

Stepping in, she was met with the warmth of rows of half-melted candles surrounding the perimeter of the chamber. They illuminated the patterned tile of the floor, splendid green and gold and ivory that twisted in long-reaching branches. Eight arched windows rose towards the high ceilings and looked out to the same view Carmelina enjoyed-- or, rather, _used_ to enjoy-- from her balcony. This room was one of several in the sprawling Silence residence intended for prayer, though its scant furnishings was proof enough that it was not quite a favorite.

__The only noteworthy piece was a marble altar that stood towards the rear of the room. A figure cloaked in bronze velvet was bowed before it in prayer, nearly glowing in the candlelight. They straightened up shortly after Carmelina made her entrance._ _

__“Carmelina.” Romeo turned towards his daughter with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. Shadows played across his face strangely before his lips curved into a smile that barely met his eyes._ _

__“The evening devotions may be over,” he continued, “but I prefer to carry on with my own prayers before retiring.”_ _

__“You’re a shining example for the Syndicate,” Carmelina replied politely, transfixed by a statue half-concealed by her father’s cloak. All she could make out were several arms. Silent Goat, she believed, and tilted her head to get a better look, but Romeo took a step forward as if to prevent this. Carmelina couldn’t help but frown, feeling discomfort catching in her throat. Her father caught her gaze, then the older Architect’s expression softened._ _

__“Why is there such fear in your eyes, my child?” He approached her with open arms. Carmelina took one hesitant step before rushing to embrace him._ _

__“Father,” she began in half-whisper. “I saw something frightening.” From a single eye, she stared at the darkness beyond the large windows. Recollections caused her to tremble. “A vast desert overtook the ocean, and shadow-creatures…” How hideous, their dance. “...they circled the pyramid of Crying Grudge.”_ _

“ _Carmelina._ ” Romeo held her tightly. “My Carmelina. You know that I would never let any harm come to this island.” After a few moments, he pulled away. “I would do anything to give you and your mother a perfect life in Paradise.”

__

__

__

__

__Carmelina searched her father’s eyes with worry. “But Father, I fear the demons that have rotted our home. What if they return to attack us, and Crying Grudge?” The god’s cry of utter misery was a sound she hoped she would only hear once. It still reverberated achingly in her bones. Carmelina’s lips quivered, and the tears spilled before she could help it._ _

__“Demons will never set foot upon this island.” There was a change in Romeo’s voice. It was certain, almost boldly so. “Never. You shall see.”_ _

_How hard I have worked to bring our gods back to Paradise._

__\--------_ _

__Beneath the daylight, members of the Syndicate gathered before the morning devotions. Carmelina watched scores of people flit around in their finery below. The grand windows of the main corridor offered an appealing view of ornately-tiled steps leading around the island. Her eyes drifted towards the island beaches, not far away. Their ocean waves sparkled in brilliant blue, lapping rhythmically against the walls of the malachite pyramid in the distance._ _

__Carmelina pulled herself away from the window. She felt the burden of the physical and mental fatigue from a mostly sleepless night. Her footsteps were slow and deliberate, as she willed herself the fortitude to make it through the devotions. Without thinking, she stopped before a closed door. Carmelina stared tiredly at it before realizing it was the entrance to the room her father had been praying in. Her mind went to the arms peeking from behind the velvet of his robes._ _

__She was curious._ _

Her fingers gently descended upon the wrought gold handle. What if it wasn’t Silent Goat? Carmelina paused. _What an odd thought._ Her eyes soaked in the image of that very god carved into the door in front of her, before she turned the handle. Or, tried to. It did not budge beneath her hold. Carmelina felt her heartbeat quicken, but she breathed through the beginnings of worry until it dissipated some. She didn’t have the time nor the energy for such stress before an important event.

If the room was locked, then all the better. Perhaps she was overthinking again. Well, she was almost certain that it was the case. _As always._

__Carmelina allowed her hand to drop at her side. She could hear her mother’s voice calling for her to hurry for the devotions. The young Architect made her way to meet her parents, leaving the long corridor in silence._ _

__Behind the door of the prayer chamber, a golden statue twinkled beneath the muted sunlight sifting through diaphanous curtains. Its many arms seemed to curled around the rays of sun, while an iguana-like visage grinned mischievously in the emptiness._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've thought a good bit about how the fifth Island Sequence might go. What happens when devotion becomes deception? 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Until the Vanishing Point

_Island Sequence Five_

Perhaps she should have closed her eyes.

She wondered what good it could have done, if the misery would have been less blinding. Now, all that her eyes beheld was blanched, leaving only lines without dimension. 

A gust of warm, heavy wind left Carmelina in the billows of her silk cloak. She pictured it whisking her away. If only it could. Carmelina could feel every pulse of the island’s death beneath her feet. The poison had long since accomplished its cruel task, leaving the shell of a heart that still tried to beat. 

Island Sequence Five was dead.

Her father, dead with it. 

_“Close your eyes.”_

But she couldn’t. When Judge coldly demanded for the execution of Romeo Silence, Carmelina eyes remained fixed on the man who knelt pitifully before the Council. Ruthless Marshals tortured him into broken submission, but Cosmic Deceit had already picked his bones clean of any strength the moment he latched onto the Architect’s psychic will. Of course, a defeated god could not very well answer to the crime of deception and the unspeakable corruption that slaughtered yet another Paradise. This was all that could be done.

_Cowards. Cowards. Cowards._

She knew the truth. Carmelina knew her father was innocent. A god had used him for nefarious ruin, leaving him to suffer the endless, soul-breaking shame when his plot failed. All Romeo wanted was to create a Paradise for gods and humans. And in the end, not one member of the Syndicate stood up for him. Not a single one defended him for his moment of weakness. Even her mother remained silent, eyes downcast as her comrades spat vitriol at her husband.

_After everything you did for them..._

This was the repayment for such devotion, wasn’t it?

 _“Close your eyes, Carmelina.”_ Natasha’s lips barely moved. Her voice was alien to her daughter’s ears. The only thing Carmelina heard was her father’s single plea: mercy, towards his wife and child. There was one last shred of humanity in the man yet-- but Judge did not halt the executioner’s sword, nor did they give the disgraced Architect a reply before his blood splattered brightly against the limestone ruins.

The wind ceased, and Carmelina forced herself back to the present, out of this looping memory she couldn’t help but replay in the final days of the fifth sequence. She felt just as desiccated as the sand dunes that half-devoured Paradise, as empty as the eyes of demonic corpses staring at a sky bleeding violet red. The sight of it would have shocked her into nauseous disgust, if she had any desire left to feel. Her father’s final work was savagely destroyed, once again. Yet, were he still alive, he could have remade it even more magnificently, just as he had before. If they had spared him, he would have one day made a truly perfect Paradise. Instead, his body rotted somewhere beneath a corrupted sun. All of his remaining blueprints were burned for fear of any demonic traces lurking within the lines, never to be utilized in future iterations of the Island Sequences. 

Her mother, at least, was relieved that Leader Monserrat and Judge deemed the remaining Silences uninvolved in Romeo’s sin of betrayal. Their lives would be spared, and Natasha would continue on as the Architect of Paradise. In exchange, all Council-level privileges would be stripped from the Silence family, along with any possibility of ever attaining a Council seat. On the surface, it seemed a small price to pay for escaping the swing of the blade. However, the true essence of this punishment was a lifetime of shame and ridicule, a disgrace to the blessing of Silent Goat. Natasha accepted it without question. Carmelina could see nothing behind her worn gaze. She kept her mother’s lonely burden in her prayers, but kept these prayers to herself. 

_The gods are not always sincere, after all._ This thought, in particular, she dared not utter to anyone. Who was there to listen, anyway? They were either dead, like her father, or dead to her, like nearly everyone else. Loneliness that began in bitter anger gave way to frigid, self-imposed solitude. Voices dulled and colors bled from what remained of her world. 

Another strong wind picked up, and Carmelina paused before a ruined bridge leading to where the Ferrywoman waited for her. Below her was the last stretch of lifeless ocean. _This island was once Paradise._ Would she forget this truth completely, one day? Would the destruction and heartache be all that remained of this sequence within her heart?

Looking back to where sand met sea, she allowed her eyes to linger on the pale apparitions that dotted the beaches. These “Citizens” stood frozen as if they were translucent statues erected to memorialize this dead island. They would remain until Sequence Five crumbled out of existence forever, witness to the denouement without a hope for true peace. Even though the end of an island meant certain sacrifice of all Citizens, those whose spirits were bound in this grim purgatory sent an odd wave of pity through Carmelina. This time, she almost envied them; they would watch over her father until the very end, the only truly loyal subjects of Paradise. Perhaps even Romeo’s soul, so cruelly ripped from his battered body, waited somewhere on the island, too.

_Father…_

The thought of it made Carmelina’s heart swell with an unbearable anguish. She prayed that the _true_ gods welcomed his spirit, rather than condemn him to such a loneliness.

She turned away and continued with the final steps she would ever take on this Paradise. The stones were dull beneath the sunlight, but Lydia Day Break’s car glimmered beside its smiling driver. With a greeting, she opened one of the rear doors for Carmelina to enter and take her seat. The Architect gathered her cloak before settling wordlessly onto the sumptuous leather. Beside her, she rested a nondescript satchel carrying a single sketchbook and a preserved eyeball in its gilded case. She half-listened to Lydia entering the driver’s side. 

“Let me know if you have enough room back there,” the Ferrywoman offered over her shoulder as she started up the vehicle. Carmelina’s eyes trailed over the meticulously upholstered interior. The vehicle had not much changed since she last made such a journey. That time, though, she had insisted on traveling with both of her parents. The memory of her father’s velvet robes against her cheek caused a lump to catch in her throat. Carmelina swallowed thickly and inadvertently met Lydia’s gentle eyes in the rearview mirror.

“...I might have too much.” How empty her voice sounded. Carmelina looked away immediately.

A soft exhale sounded from the woman in front of her. Several moments passed, with the smooth hum of the engine filling the silence.

“I’m sorry. About your father.”

The words caught the Architect by surprise. The Ferrywoman had turned to look over her shoulder; behind her dark-rimmed glasses was a look of compassion. _Compassion._ It was foreign to Carmelina after everything that had occurred, but it was enough to cause her to lower her head and conceal the stinging behind her eyes. She clasped her hands together tightly and bit her lip to distract herself with the pain.

“Let us depart, shall we?” Lydia’s voice was soft, understanding. Carmelina could hear her hands shifting the gears, and prepared herself for the jolt of the car as they moved from this dimension to the next. Slowly they drove, at first, with the dimmed ruins of Sequence Five witnessing their departure from beyond the windows. Then, Lydia accelerated, the images fleeing into blur as the vehicle passed through the gates leading them to the next island. The familiar nausea clutched at Carmelina’s stomach, mixed with an aching she knew she would carry with her forever. She squeezed her eyes shut, and allowed the tears to fall.

_Goodbye, Paradise._

_Goodbye, Father._

\--------

_Island Sequence Six_

Night was already beginning to fall within this new iteration of Paradise by the time the two women arrived. Lydia pulled up to a large marble edifice, darkened by a peculiar and beautiful evening light. 

“We’re here.” Lydia smiled at her passenger in the rearview mirror as she brought the vehicle to a halt. Carmelina tried discreetly to blot away any remaining tears, and gave her a single nod.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” There was that warmth in her tone and visage once more. Exiting from the driver’s seat, the Ferrywoman moved to open the rear door for Carmelina. Collecting her affairs, she stepped outside and inhaled the new island air deeply. The scent held no trace of familiarity for the Architect, but perhaps that was for the better.

“When will my mother arrive?” she asked Lydia.

“She told me that she’d leave the island after the rest of the Council are transported here. As long as everything goes smoothly, that should be tomorrow evening at the latest.” The woman smiled sympathetically. “Hopefully it won’t be too lonely ‘til then.”

“I’ll be fine.” Perhaps it was the truth. And if it wasn’t, she would wait until a time when it became so. “Lydia Day Break… Thank you.”

This time, Lydia’s crimson lips pulled into a lovely grin. “Like I said, any time. Take care, now, Carmelina.” She slipped back into the car, and with a brief wave, drove off to her next destination. Carmelina watched until she disappeared from sight, and was left feeling oddly deflated. Maybe even lonely after all.

Behind her, the grand new home of the Silence family stood in the growing darkness. Not a single light illuminated the windows; instead they seemed to bear flitting shadows that Carmelina was in no mood to exist amongst tonight. She thought for a moment to take a seat on one of the many steps leading to the entrance, but thought it better to walk off her nerves and obsessive thoughts.

In the balmy air, she wandered the new paths leading from her home and towards other Syndicate residences. Where she heard voices, she would turn and change course, desiring to go nowhere in particular and see no one even more. Carmelina wasn’t aware of how long she walked before reaching a sizable plaza surrounded by fragrant trees and flowers. Stone lamps of violet flames set the scene awash with a comforting light. No one was here, just as she preferred it. She selected a bench at random and took a seat upon the cool iron. Her mind was a touch clearer, tired even, but she dared not return to the empty home that awaited her on this new Paradise. Around her, the sounds of nighttime gave her something to blankly focus on-- the chirping insects, an occasional rustle of the foliage from the easy breezes. 

How long until the dawn?

How long until she could embrace this inevitable new beginning?

The tears had run dry, for now. How long before they returned? It was so hard to be strong. 

_We are Architects,_ her father would say. _There is nothing we cannot create._ But her father no longer existed anywhere but in her memories, his immortality severed and his creations rendered failures. If all she was able to create now was a façade-- a façade of strength, a façade of perfection-- perhaps one day it would become truth. A truth only for her, a legacy she would carry on, for him. 

The time passed, and though Carmelina’s body felt the pangs of fatigue, her mind remained alert. She stood, taking in the sights of the silent plaza before returning on the path that led her back home. Now, there were no voices of Syndicate members outside of the buildings, only a handful of lights indicating that there were some other restless souls awake in the dark hours of night.

Reaching where the road split, she took notice of a meandering figure nearly concealed by the shadows outside of the streetlights. Carmelina stiffened, bitterness crawling up her throat again before a glint of light shone on a familiar mask wrought of gold. _Witness to the End._ She had not seen nor spoken to him since before her father’s trial, though he surely must have been consulted by her mother during the chaos in the Syndicate’s hurry to move to the next Paradise. Carmelina oft thought of him with varying degrees of emotion, but shoved those feelings aside in favor of a vow to dismiss the entirety of the Syndicate as craven, heartless fools. It was the truth, of _course_ it was the truth, even if the Ferrywoman Lydia Day Break had already set the first crack in. Now, at last falling under a familiar and curious gaze of the green-eyed man, Carmelina half-feared her resolve could break even more.

_And how long until it shattered?_

“Architect Carmelina, welcome. It pleases me to see that you have arrived safely.” His voice held a soft sincerity that she hadn’t realized she missed. Witness stopped just a few feet away from her. “I am surprised you are not resting after such a journey.”

“I cannot sleep,” the Architect admitted. The tiredness in her voice likely suggested otherwise.

“I also find it difficult to get adequate rest after moving to a new Island Sequence,” Witness offered in his own brand of camaraderie. “It will take time, but I am sure we will adjust.” 

_One of us might._ Rather than angry, the thought was tinged with melancholy. Carmelina simply hummed in response.

“If you would like the company, Architect, I would be happy to give it.”

“And what makes you think I’m in need of company tonight, Witness?” Perhaps she sounded _too_ indignant. Perhaps she hated how well he seemed to see through her.

As if he could feel the pain still emanating from her, Witness nodded once. “Another time, then.” He turned to continue on his way. It upset Carmelina before she could attempt to conceal this feeling.

“Witness.” She called out to his retreating form, her voice breaking. “Do you take joy in watching Paradise after Paradise fail and end?”

“Architect Carmelina.” The violet-clad man moved to her side, closer this time than before. “You may think me the antithesis to the responsibility you and your family bear, but I have always considered myself an ally in the quest towards a suitable home for our astral lords.” He offered her his hand; Carmelina stared at his palm before resting hers atop it.

“The cycles of life continue, as they always have, and always will. The rise and fall of man and god over the centuries has taught us so. A discerning eye must look beyond the suffering, beyond the remnants of the supposed failures, so that what lies in the future always shines brighter than the past. The holiness and wholeness we have searched for since the Great Betrayal is not out of reach.” Witness rested his free hand over Carmelina’s, and briefly tightened his hold. “I am a friend, Architect. That has not changed. I hope you may take heart in this one day.”

Carmelina brought her eyes up to meet his. Witness’s declaration roused within her conflicting emotions. How could he look at her with those eyes of understanding? How could he still desire to stand alongside her for the sake of Paradise? A single tear crept down her cheek. She didn’t believe him, or maybe she couldn’t.

“I hate to watch things end.” Her words were hardly above a whisper. “I can’t bear it anymore.”

Witness gripped her hand again. It was a small comfort, yet added to the others she had received on this day was more than she could handle. The façade of strength would need much work until it was perfect. Carmelina squeezed his hand in return.

\--------

In a modest garden-in-the-making just outside of Witness to the End’s residence, the two of them enjoyed a pot of herbal tea in silence. The blend gave considerable calmness to the disoriented Architect. Sunrise was fast approaching but her mind was still in the darkness of the night.

What would Island Sequence Six herald?

Could happiness and purpose find her again as she began from zero?

Before, she would have asked Witness these questions and a million more for his unique insight, for a fresh outlook upon which she could craft new possibilities within Paradise. Now, she felt like a blank page with the imprint of previous errors marring the smooth white. Whatever she created from this moment forward would bear the ghosts of shame and fear of failure.

But she _would_ create again. Just as her father had said, she was an Architect. This long Night would end and give way to Day.

The first sunrise in Paradise began with a pale light peeking from the horizon. Carmelina and Witness watched soft violet bleed like watercolor into the dark blue skies. Then, brilliant orange ruptured the gentle hues, finally laying the evening to rest for good. The rays stretched out across the earth before they embraced the buildings of the island with an intimate warmth. Everything became bathed in a light of unparalleled beauty. Tears sprung to Carmelina’s eyes, and fell without guilty hands hurrying to wipe them away.

She sobbed freely in this unfamiliar garden, in this unfamiliar Paradise, beside the man who was destined to oversee the Endings.

When Carmelina felt a firm, reassuring hand upon her shoulder, she wondered if he could find pleasure in witnessing this Beginning, alongside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Carmelina said in-game that Witness "has always been integral to my art" (or something close to that!), I melted. Consider this fic, in part, dedicated to a relationship I wish we knew more about :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for your time!


End file.
